Beginner Cycling

Riding High

Faced with discomfort down below, our rookie submits to a professional bike fit. The results are utterly dizzying

colin mcenroe

He discovered a thicket of peculiar tilts and asymmetries in my body. Greg also concluded that, on the scale of human flexibility, I fell somewhere between mummy and wooden Indian, although he was way too nice to use those terms.

"We actually spend a lot of time talking people out of standing up on hills because it's not that efficient," he told me. "But it's odd that you can't do it at all."

He also noted my saddle was too low. Somewhere in there, as Greg adjusted, fiddled, and tweaked, I started buying stuff. I bought shoe inserts. I bought a narrower handlebar (and, therefore, new tape). I bought a Body Geometry saddle, which Greg said might hurt until my bottom started to meld with it. I bought a stem to bring the bar closer. Next I'll buy a device that can be embedded in my palm and will start blinking when I haven't purchased any bike gear in more than seven days.

I got about $300 worth of stuff. All of this had to be installed and discussed in further exhaustive interviews so that, when Maude returned three hours later, Greg was still only getting warmed up. We agreed to stop. Maude and I were hungry, and the store was closing for the night.

"Anyway," I told Greg, "what I really need to do is go for a ride now and see how all these changes feel. And then I'll come back and fine-tune."

Now here I was, my first time back out, on what felt like a high-wheeler from 1885. I later learned that for beginners like me, it's one thing to alter the bike so the rider gets the most out of it, and a whole other thing to feel comfortable with those changes. Right then it was too freaky. I went back home, cautiously dismounted, and brought my bike to the nearest shop, where the genial but unscientific Al works.

"Can you lower my seat?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. "Stand next to the bike."

In minutes, Al undid many of the tiny, scientific adjustments Greg had performed during the hours we spent together. And that was heartbreaking. While Al was doing that I browsed the shop because the red light on my palm was blinking. But I was antsy. You ever get that feeling that the ratio of fussing with your bike as opposed to actually pedaling it is out of whack? It suddenly felt like ages since I'd really ridden.

I circled the nearby reservoir. I noticed a huge, happy difference with the new handlebar-and-stem configuration, and I could actually get down in the drops. My nether region and the saddle were having a complicated first date, but I could picture a future together for them.

A voice coach once told me, "A song is like a date. You don't want to blurt everything out in the first minute." I now realize my bike and I are like that. After an initial infatuation, we're getting to really know each other. I will go back and work some more with Greg, and my bike and I will start to feel comfortable together. And eventually, when he elevates my saddle to put me back among the skyscrapers, I might even begin to enjoy the view.